And I'll See It Through
by darnedchild
Summary: A short fic for Molly Hooper Appreciation Week (Summer 2017) - Day 6 - Music Lifts My Soul (Fanworks incorporating music) The night before The Fall, Sherlock asks a lot of Molly. Perhaps too much.


**And I'll See It Through**

 **Day 6 -Music Lifts My Soul** _ **(Fanworks incorporating music)**_

 _When you touch me  
I feel there's nothing you could do to turn me away  
And I know that  
In the past you've had bad luck so I should help you stay_

 _You're all I ever wanted  
You're all I ever needed, it's you  
You're all I've ever wanted  
Loving you is the right thing to do_

 _And I'll see it through_

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

"What do you need?" Molly's voice was surprisingly steady considering the situation. She had no idea what had happened to Sherlock, what he might have done; but whatever it was, she knew she would help him. No matter what.

He stepped closer. She thought some of the tension drained from his face and shoulders. Molly held her breath in anticipation of his answer. Her mind already racing with worrisome possibilities.

This wasn't a simple request for after-hours access to the lab, or a bag of thumbs. This was gravely serious.

"You."

Molly's knees weakened.

Not because she entertained even a second's thought that he meant it in a romantic way. That wasn't them, that wasn't their relationship. She loved him, probably always had from the first moment she heard him say her name; and she knew that he cared about her as much as he was willing or able to care about anyone. She suspected he might not be able to label it a friendship in his own mind, but that's exactly what it was. They were friends.

No, her knees went weak in absolute terror.

The same terror that nearly crippled her when her father finally sat her down and admitted he was dying.

"You have me," Molly quietly reassured him.

Sherlock's expression softened even more. He reached out and gently cupped her cheek in his large hand. "But I don't deserve you. I never have."

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

 _When I close my eyes  
I think of you, it takes me places that I've never seen  
And the rain, it blows  
You're brushing up against my skin to wash me clean_

 _You're all I ever wanted  
You're all I ever needed, it's you  
You're all I've ever wanted  
Loving you is the right thing to do_

 _And I'll see it through_

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

His plan was insane. Completely and utterly insane.

"I can't believe your brother hasn't tried to talk you out of this." Molly paced the lab, her petite frame nearly vibrated with poorly suppressed anxiety.

Sherlock, in contrast, was incredibly still. His eyes were closed, fingers steepled at his chin; yet she knew he was tracking every move she made. "On the contrary, he suggested several of the finer points and even came up with code names for most of the options. He does so love using code names. One of his less annoying quirks."

Molly huffed and dropped onto the floor next to him, leaning back against the same cabinet he was. "I won't ask if you're sure this is the only choice you have. I'm positive you and Mycroft have probably analysed all the data and come up with multiple risk scenarios and-and all that."

"Risk scenarios?" He opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at her; even sitting on the tile together, he was still considerably taller than her. "Been watching more police procedurals? Or was it a Bond film?"

"Shut it." Molly leaned her head against his shoulder. Normally she wouldn't dream of invading his personal space like that, but she forgave herself when she considered that it could be the last time she saw him for several years.

Or ever.

"What happens after?" She left the 'assuming you survive' bit unspoken.

"I leave. The rest of the world will believe me disgraced and dead. I'll be a ghost, dismantling Moriarty's network from the shadows, until there's nothing left but the spider himself."

Molly stared at a scuff on the toe of her shoe, and tried not to sound as heartbroken as she felt. "Even if he doesn't realize you've escaped the roof alive, he'd be an idiot not to be suspicious when his people start getting arrested . . . or whatever. And how are you going to keep him from noticing you aren't, in fact, dead? Surely he's going to want to double check."

"Mycroft. There will be a helicopter waiting to swoop in and arrest Moriarty the second one of our plans goes into motion. In the ensuing chaos, my dead body will be discovered and dealt with; and by the time Moriarty is released—which we both know he will be—I'll be on my way to Budapest."

She pulled at the cuff of her cherry cardigan, and tried to think of something to say other than 'Please, please don't do this'. No matter how much she wanted to beg him to find another way, she wouldn't. He'd asked for her help, and she would see it through to the end.

"I've heard the Danube is pretty when it's lit up at night."

"Perhaps . . . perhaps I might be able to find a way to send you a picture." He lifted his arm and hesitantly slid it around her shoulder so that she could rest her head against his chest. "I can't make any promises, Molly. The odds are that I won't be able to contact anyone for a very long time, but Mycroft might be able to-to let you know how I am once in awhile."

She sniffed and turned her head to bury her nose against the wool of his Belstaff. "I understand."

"No more tears, Molly." She felt his thumb brush against dampness on her cheek. Molly hadn't even realized she'd been crying.

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

 _I'll show you the love in my head  
I'll show you the love that we have  
I'll show you the love in my head  
I'll show you the love that we have_

 _You're all I ever wanted  
You're all I ever needed, it's you  
You're all I've ever wanted  
Loving you is the right thing to do_

 _And I'll see it through_

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

She woke up to a gentle nudge against her shoulder. Molly opened her eyes and realized she must have fallen asleep with her head on Sherlock's lap, both of them still on the floor. She sat up and brushed the ends of her frazzled ponytail from her face, pulling several strands out of her dry mouth. "What time is it?"

"Two."

That gave her half an hour to finish waking up and put herself to rights before she needed to meet a pair of Mycroft's men outside the loading dock. They were going to drive her out to a small county hospital, where she was going to use the influence of the British Government to convince the night clerk there to authorize an immediate transfer of a very specific John Doe to Barts. Molly had spent hours earlier, tracking down the body of one of Moriarty's former associates. A man Sherlock had correctly suspected had outlived his usefulness.

Sherlock stood and offered his hand to help her up. Once she was standing, she tried to step back but he held on to her. He scrubbed his free hand over his face, then sighed. "Sometimes I wish things were different, Molly. I wish I was-"

"Not another word." She shook her head and blinked back the threat of another round of tears. "You are what you are, and that's . . . all I've ever needed, Sherlock. Just, try to come home in one piece. Please."

He squeezed her hand, then let her go. "I'll do my best. Your ride will be waiting. I guess this is goodbye, Molly."

"For now." She hoped that if she said it firmly enough, with enough conviction, it would make it true.

"For now," Sherlock agreed.

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

 _* The song is "I'll See It Through" by Texas, from the "Careful What You Wish For" album (2003)_


End file.
